Where He Belongs
by Ashlified
Summary: Sandy's having second thoughts about working at the private firm. One-shot.


A/N: This is set after the finale. Nobody leaves and Teresa isn't pregnant, although it doesn't have any pull on the story, I just want to make it clear. That's my little universe.  
  
Sandy sat at his desk, feet up, bobbing his head to the light sound of the radio Seth gave him for Chrismukkah. It's been a long time since he has been unhappy at his job, and well, the time has come. Working at a private firm - sure, it has it's benefits. Look at his office. Named etched on the door, completely furnished and people bowing to your every demand. But it was missing something. It was missing the satisfaction. The satisfaction of defending a kid that made a mistake, a kid that made a totally uninformed decision and didn't have a way out. That's what his calling in life was, and he abandoned it just to make a few extra bucks and as Rachel would say, "expand your horizons." His thoughts were cut short, however, by Rachel herself. This time, wheeling in a cart of more files.  
"Sandy, it's not too professional to have your feet up on your desk, ya know." Sandy didn't reply with a word, he just shrugged and let out a "humph." He took his feet off his desk and got up to look at the files.

"What's the matter with you? Trouble at home?" Rachel raised an eyebrow in Sandy's direction, with that stupid smug smile on her face.

"You know what, Rachel? It's none of your god damned business." Sandy picked up a folder and slammed it down on his desk. "Now if you don't mind, I need to defend this guy who burnt his hand on hot coffee." He sat down and put his feet back on his desk, turned up the radio a little louder, and dug into the file. Rachel left without a word, and Sandy was grateful for that.  
  
Sandy got out of his BMW and trudged into the house. His tie was pulled loose, and he looked worse than he has in years. He walked in and set his briefcase on the floor and slowly made way into the kitchen. The only thing that could make his day better was to see his beautiful wife, and there she was, sipping wine with another full glass on the counter, beckoning him to join her.

"Hey, honey." Kirsten set down her glass and walked over to her husband. "Is something wrong?" She never saw Sandy like this. He looked like he had the worst day of his life. He was slumped over, his hair was in his eyes and his tie was pulled all the way down to his chest. She put her arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the lips, and then enveloped him into a tight hug.

"It's nothing, really. I'm just tired. Worn out. But I'm glad to see you." A smile spread across his face, the first smile he cracked all day.

"Jesus, Sandy. I don't want to hurt your feelings - but you look like shit. Bad day at the office?"  
Sandy had to smile again.

"Thanks, sweetie. Your bluntness is really comforting."

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry." She hugged him again and kissed him, this time more passionately. "How about I give you a stress-free night?" She smiled seductively and took his hand. There was nothing more that Sandy wanted right now was to go up into his bedroom and spend a private evening with his wife, but he needed to talk.

"Kirsten, can we talk?" He led her over to the dining room table, taking the glass of wine with him.

"Sure, sweetie." Was something wrong with him and that's why he looked like that?

"I've been thinking," Sandy started, taking a sip of his wine, "I'm not enjoying my job anymore. You know how much I loved working at the P.D's office, right? It's just - I feel like I'm not getting anything from this job. Defending the rich and famous sucks."

"Well, babe, can't say I didn't tell ya so. This has nothing to do with how much I make or how much you make or money in general. When you worked at the P.D's office - you came home every night with a new story. This kid did this, this kid did that. You got one kid off the hook." She paused and took his hand. "You brought another home. Look what Ryan has done for this family, Sandy. Since I met you, I knew you were destined to save people. You are that kind of guy. That's what I love about you." She smiled. "Listen, do what your heart tells you ok? I'm sure the P.D's office will take you back with open arms."

"Rachel did so much to get me this job though. _We_ went through so much when I decided to take this job. I feel like I'm being pulled in 10 different directions."

"Sandy. Tomorrow, go in as if it's a regular day. Call up the P.D's office in the morning and see if they will take you back, which I'm sure they won't think twice about. Then put your letter of resignation in. They'll understand."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too. Let's go to bed."  
  
The next morning, Sandy woke up refreshed and ready to go. He went out and rode a few waves to clear his mind, because next to his wife, the ocean was the other thing in his life that can calm him down. He went into work with a plan.

Sandy waltzed into his office and sat down. Again, he put his feet up on his desk and dialed the number to the public defender's office. A woman whose voice he recognized answered the phone. "Alice, hi. It's Sandy Cohen. Yeah. Um, Alice, uh, things aren't working out here at the firm. Yeah. No, everything's fine, I just don't want to stay here anymore. Really? Are you sure? I will start working back there tomorrow. Great. Thank you so much Alice. Really. Thanks again. Bye."

Rachel walked into his office, holding a cup of coffee.. "What is this I hear? Another job?" 'Shit,' Sandy thought. He wanted to tell Rachel later in the day, not right now. And not when she's eavesdropping on his conversations.

"Yeah, you heard right. I'm sorry, Rach, but this isn't working out. I can't do this anymore."

"What, wifey doesn't like you making money?" Rachel always had a problem with butting into his personal life, especially matters dealing with Kirsten. If Rachel were a guy, she'd have a broken nose by now. But Sandy would handle her like a gentleman.

"Actually, Rachel, I like making money. Kirsten doesn't have a problem with it. But I don't want to be here. I am going back to the public defender's office, where I belong. I'm destined to be there."

"You can't be serious. Do you know how much shit I went through to get you this job?"

"What shit? Huh? Sending me surfboards? Free lunches? Seducing me in my office? This office is bull shit, I'm tired of defending these schmucks and I'm sick of you. I'm putting in my resignation." Rachel was, for once in her life, speechless. Had she really been that much of a bitch to him? She thought he was the most attractive guy in the firm, and of course she forgot that he was wedded to Kirsten Nichol. Only Newport's richest woman.

"I'm sorry it has to be like this, Sandy. You're not thinking straight."

"No, I am, for once. I'm not going to be persuaded by any more gifts I want to go back where I belong." Sandy opened his briefcase and took out his letter. "Here. I'm sorry." And with that, he closed his briefcase and walked out of his office, triumphantly. It will be good to go back to where he started.


End file.
